Chapter 63: Chapter-63

Elara sat alone in her office and slowly looked around.

It wasn’t much—hardly anything, really—but it was enough for her to work. That was all she needed.

As soon as she settled into the chair, it wobbled. Not slightly. Properly. The kind that makes your balance hesitate for a breath too long. Elara adjusted herself instinctively, then stood up again. She lifted the chair and struck its legs against the floor two or three times, firm and precise, until the unevenness surrendered. When she sat again, it held.

Better.

The table in front of her didn’t fare much better. Its surface was worn thin, edges dulled by time, the wood carrying the quiet exhaustion of years. Anyone else might have scoffed—or worse, complained.

Elara felt neither anger nor frustration.

If anything, she felt reassured.

This place was the safest she could be right now.

She had chosen it herself. Not Dimrti. Not a single administrators. No one knew that Elara had been the one to request this place. There was no grand reason behind it—only caution.

From the moment she had left the capital, she knew eyes would follow her. Too many of them. Watching. Measuring. Waiting for a misstep. If she spent freely, lived comfortably, surrounded herself with splendor, those eyes would sharpen into claws. Questions would come. Then whispers. Then bugs crawling where they didn’t belong.

So she chose the opposite.

Let them believe she had nothing.

A princess living in what could only be described as a horror house. Barely enough money to buy necessities. No servants. No extravagance. Just shadows and worn furniture.

It was a far less interesting story.

And that was exactly the point.

A lavish mansion with gardens would invite curiosity—where did the money come from, how much did she have, who was funding her? But a princess who looked almost pitiful? There was nothing to dig into there.

Nothing worth chasing.

Elara leaned back slightly in her now-stable chair.

Let them underestimate her.

A sudden knock echoed through the room.

Elara lifted her head. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Dimrti entered with Lisa close behind him. He bowed first, properly, before walking forward.

“Your Highness—the list.”

He placed a thick stack of papers beside the documents already on her desk. The pages were heavy, dense with ink and numbers.

“These are all the receipts for the items purchased,” he continued. Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small pouch. He loosened the drawstring just enough for her to see inside—less than half of it had been used. He set it on the table beside the list.

“The rubies were more than sufficient,” he said. “We were able to buy everything, and there is still a fair amount of cash left.”

Elara nodded lightly. “Oh? Is that so?”

She picked up the list and began flipping through it, her eyes moving swiftly over the entries. After a moment, she asked, without looking up, “What about the dresses?”

Dimrti hesitated for a fraction of a second.

“Yes, Your Highness. Dresses were bought for the administrators, for you, and for Lady Lisa. The others—”

Elara raised her hand, cutting him off. “Wait.” She looked up now, her gaze steady. “I asked about the clothes for Beast knights. Were they ordered or not?”

Dimrti paused, then answered carefully, “Your Highness—”

Elara leaned back slightly, her tone calm but firm. “If I remember correctly, I said for all of them. That means everyone in this mansion. So tell me—why are there clothes only for the administrators, for me, and for Lisa? What about the Beast knights attire for the rest?”

The silence stretched just long enough to sting.

Dimrti lowered his head. “You are right, Your Highness. It was my mistake. I will place the order immediately.”

“Good,” Elara said, nodding once. “Order boots as well. And whatever else they might need.”

Her gaze shifted briefly to the bedding stacked against the wall. “The beddings are thick, yes?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he replied at once. “As you instructed, all bedding and blankets are filled with wool and real cotton. They should be warm and comfortable for everyone.”

“Okay.”

She turned toward the window then, looking out at the house beyond it, her expression thoughtful. “Call the repairman tomorrow. The kitchen needs work.”

Dimrti straightened. “Understood, Your Highness.”

“Also,” she continued, “hire three servants for kitchen duty—cleaning, cooking, maintenance. And four to five more for cleaning the house.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he answered without hesitation.

Elara gave a final nod and returned her attention to the documents, already moving on in her mind.

Dimrti remained standing.

Elara noticed it after a moment. She lifted her gaze from the papers and looked at him directly.

“What is it?” she asked. “Is there something else?”

Dimrti hesitated. His fingers twitched at his side before he finally spoke.

“Um… Your Highness. The Beast Knights are property of the royal family. I don’t think it’s appropriate to treat them this way.”

Elara paused.

She set down her feather quill slowly, the soft tap against the desk sounding louder than it should have. Then she looked up at him again.

Calmly. Almost too calmly.

“May I ask,” she said, “what exactly you mean by ’this way’?”

Dimrti bit his lip before continuing. “Your Highness, I know you feel pity for them. And I know you respect their work—we do as well. But you must remember, they are royal property. We are not required to pay them salaries. Now, when funds are already tight, you are giving them wages. If the Emperor were to learn of this, it could cause trouble.”

Elara listened without interrupting.

When he finished, she spoke.

“First,” she said evenly, “I am not giving them money for free, and I am not acting out of pity.”

Dimrti stiffened.

“Second,” she continued, “I do not care what the Emperor thinks. He is not a fool. He knows when to advance—and when to step back.”

She leaned slightly forward now, her eyes unwavering.

“Third, I do not care whether they are property of the royal family, the empire, a kingdom, a city, or a village. To me, they walk on two legs. They speak. They wait. And they work.”

Her voice did not rise. It didn’t need to.

“Even if they were monsters,” she said, “I would still pay them.”

Dimrti’s breath hitched.

“And perhaps you have forgotten,” Elara went on, “that your safety—your protection—rests in their hands.”

She held his gaze.

“So I hope,” she said quietly, “that everyone here will treat them with the utmost respect.”

Then, as if remembering his own words, she added,

“After all, if the Beast Knights are royal property, then harming them—or insulting them—would be no different from insulting the royal family itself.”

Silence settled heavily between them.

Elara reached for her quill again, already done with the matter.

Dimrti nodded once and then slowly left the room.

Lisa was the next to enter. She moved with quiet purpose, walking to the window and drawing the curtain closed as a cold wind swept in from outside. Then she approached the fireplace, placing fresh wood into the flames. The room grew warmer, the soft crackle of the fire filling the silence.

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